


Valkyrie

by WriteReal



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Warrior, Olicity forever!, The Master is a bigger bastard than Ra's, Valkyrie - Freeform, season six, strong female, violence that is not graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:37:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteReal/pseuds/WriteReal
Summary: Oliver duels with a female warrior that rivals Ra's and finds himself equally intrigued and frustrated by her challenge and the strange connection between them. The questions that haunt Oliver are, who is she, why does she want to kill him, and why does he feel compelled to save her?





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that I have wanted to see and don't expect to ever see in the show. Valkyrie is strong, fierce, and accomplished. She finds herself drawn to a man she has sworn to kill. Oliver, who loves Felicity with every fiber of his beng, and never even looks at another woman, is disturbed and angry to find himself drawn to this fiery woman warrior. She is his equal in so many ways, and she wants to kill him. Why? And, can he turn her? Can he bring her into the light even as he knows it will endanger his relationship with that light?

It was another fire fight where it was his bow and arrows against bullets. He was tired of this. Dig had a gun. Felicity was watching everything, and gave them warnings. But, he was really tired of being outmanned. For the hundredth time, he wondered if his mission was a failure and if it was time to give up.

But, now was not the time to brood. He had some serious, organized assholes to take down. And they were organized. It wasn’t the League, but they knew what they were doing. Thank god for Dig and his damn good aim.

He shot two of the mercs (or whatever they were), aiming up as they had the high ground on the rooftop. They had tried to breach the Star City (it should be Starling City, damn Ray Palmer) Bank’s main vault and the alarm had prompted Felicity to send them to the scene. Star City was in enough financial trouble. They didn’t need their main bank going under due to a robbery.

Both warriors fell, and three more went down courtesy of Dig’s gun. He turned to the last foe who was wielding a sword. He didn’t have one to match—her? But his bow was the second best weapon in a sword fight, and he was a helluva lot bigger than her.

He shot an arrow at her and she used the flat of her sword to deflect it. Then she charged over the edge of her high point advantage and leaped, tucking into a forward flip and landing on her feat. She shot towards him, her sword already swinging. He brought up his bow and they engaged.

She was good. Not Ra’s good, but damn close, and in the hind of his brain he wondered who she was and why she was robbing a bank. It seemed beneath a fighter of this caliber. They thrust and parried and she wisely stayed too close for the bow and arrows to be effective. Their arms clashed and heaved and Oliver felt a burn in his muscles in a way that he hadn’t in a long time. She was the real deal, and despite his determination to take her down, his admiration of her skills burgeoned. Too bad he had to take capture her and see her imprisoned. If she turned her skills to justice, she would be an incredible asset to team Arrow. He sucked in a harsh breath of freezing cold air. Where the hell had that idea come from? He shook his head and re-focused.

It was too late. She feinted and he fell for it. (Damnit! He was going soft!) She swept his legs and in an instant had him on his back with her sword at his throat. She straddled him, black wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, clad in tight leather and wearing a mask not unlike his own that left her brilliant green eyes exposed and locked on to him. She yanked his earpiece out and tossed it over her shoulder.

He pushed up against her and the sword bit into his throat. He could feel the heat emanating for her suit as she tightened her thighs around his hips. A completely unexpected and unwanted bolt of desire shot through him, and he knew his eyes widened.

She leaned over him and chuckled.

“Oliver Queen. Finally a worthy opponent.”

His eyes widened further. How did she know his identity? Fuck! This was worse than he thought. She was more dangerous than he thought.

“It’s too bad I have to kill you, “ she murmured, and she leaned even closer until he could feel her soft, warm breath on his face. She smelled like…lilacs. What kind of mercenary wore a lilac scent?

“I’m not dead yet,” he ground out. The sword was slicing into his flesh; he could feel the hot blood sliding down his neck and onto his collarbone. He had to survive. He HAD to. Felicity. She would be devastated. Destroyed. He would not leave her. They had had so little time together.

She smiled tightly, but the mirth did not reach her eyes. She seemed…genuinely regretful.

“You will be. I regret killing the first worthy foe I have faced in years, but my Master commands it.”

“Who is your Master?” Oliver asked in a whisper. “Who is good enough to command you?”

Pain flashed in her eyes for a moment, and then she snarled and the sword edge sank deeper into his flesh. He hissed in pain, and his back arched up. She thrust her hips and her arms down to keep him pinned to the ground and her right hand closed tighter over his bicep. His bow was six or seven feet away, having been knocked from his grasp; useless. He was at her mercy.

Oliver felt himself harden under the heat and pressure of her apex against him. He swallowed hard and self-hatred suffused him. No. NO! Felicity was the only one for him. The love of his life. The ONLY one he wanted.

She smiled as he hardened and the witch rotated her hips and pressed down on him.

“Stop it!” he snapped. She smiled widely, and she brushed her nose against his, her breath on her lips.

“Why? Are you embarrassed, Green Arrow? Are you upset that your body responds to mine?”

“I’m married,” he snarled. “I love my wife more than anything in the world. My body may respond to your manipulation, but I belong only to her.”

She laughed, a low, God help him, seductive sound. And she released his bicep – but pressed the sword deeper into his throat lest he get ideas – and stroked his cheekbone, then his cheek, and swept her fingers over his jaw and then up to caress his lips. He steeled himself against the sensation but his traitorous cock throbbed.

“Oh, I believe that. But, your body,” and her hand left his lips to sweep down the hollow in this throat to his collarbone, to his pecks, across his abs where they danced delightfully for a while, before venturing lower. The ache between his legs spiked.

“Stop!” he growled. “Either kill me or leave. I am not interested in anything else!”

Then, she kissed him. Her lips, stained dark purple by lipstick, pressed against his and her hot tongue surged forward to sweep over his mouth demanding entry. He gasped and fought the urge to part his lips and let her taste him. Just for one moment, just this moment, he wanted to let her in, and he hated himself for it. 

Suddenly, her head jerked up and she sat up tall, her body as tight as his bow. Then, loudly and violently, bullets rocketed into her chest and she jerked back and then sideways before falling back onto the concrete, her eyes wide but not surprised. Her right thigh was still pressed against his, her sword fallen against his chest, her hand on his left hip. She was down, and he feared dead. He took a deep, shuddering breath and craned his neck up and to the right to see Dig, gun falling to his side, as he strode forward. Dig had saved him. This time in more than one way. He felt sick and regretful at that knowledge.

They called the SCPD and left the scene. He had felt her pulse to assure himself that she was not dead, and he left her and others to the tender mercies of the EMTs that would swarm the scene. The SCPD did not leave the bad guys to die. They wanted the convictions and the ensuing positive record when the bad guys got imprisoned. Still, as he stripped himself of his outfit, showered, and changed into civies, he thought about her and hoped that she was not dead. She was strong, and…and…wild. She reminded him of himself when he came back from the Lian Yu. He had no idea what her mission was, but he sensed a deep, dark struggle in her soul much as he had felt when he had returned to Star(ling) City. It bothered him that she was in his thoughts, but no amount of mental discipline could banish her. Damn her.

 

Felicity enfolded him into her body. He was on his side and she enveloped him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her ribcage pressed against his, her leg draping over his hip and pulling him into her. Their lower halves pressed flush against each other. His cock stirred and she huffed a laugh.

“Well,” she whispered as she sipped from his lips. “It’s good to know you’re not that tired.” 

“I’m never too tired with you,” he murmured, his tongue plunging into her mouth. Yes, he was exhausted, and yes, he was haunted by the green-eyed warrior, but this was his love, his life, and no one else compared.

She chuckled. “I don’t believe in taking advantage of exhausted men.”

He nipped her lower lips. “Take every advantage of me, Felicity.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “I want to be inside you.” He paused and his tongue darted forward to sweep over her full, soft lips “I need you.”

The rest was all them. Their bodies moving in unison; their hearts and souls blending in the most complete way. They were the other half of each other. His thoughts never strayed to the warrior. He gave everything to his wife and she gave everything to him. They were one. As always. 

When he woke in the morning, their naked bodies entwined, the proof of their multiple satisfactions sticky beneath him, he hoped that one of them had remembered to lock the door. William did not come knocking often, but Oliver was sure that William did not want to see his parents cuddling post-coital. 

Oliver loathed to get up, but his internal chronometer told him that dawn was imminent, and he needed to get up and start everyone’s day. He needed to shower, wake William, start breakfast and the coffee, definitely the coffee, and hand a sleepy and somewhat grumpy Felicity a cup as soon as she emerged from their bedroom having smacked her alarm into truculent silence. 

Then Will would eat, get dressed, and reluctantly take the private car to school, which made Felicity roll her eyes even as she acknowledged the safety of it. Then Felicity would either take a seat at her desk in the office of their apartment or head off to meet with investors or Curtis about the development of Smoak Tech. Oliver would monitor the scanner and the internet for whatever evil things were going on while prepping dinner and whatever needed to be made and put into the freezer. 

Then he would go to Arrow HQ where he would meet with Dig and they would train. They would train as they had the first three years of his mission and he would show. No.Mercy. The ‘newbies had lost their access to all things Arrow. They had violated his trust. He would ‘train’ them, he would encourage them, but they were no longer considered part of Team Arrow. He couldn’t rely on them, and he wouldn’t. 

Then he and Dig would have lunch, usually one that he made which highly amused Dig even as he scarfed down everything Oliver made, and they would discus what was going on and what they needed to track. They would train again, and before long Felicity would appear and it would be the three of them. In those moments he believed in the future for all of them. They were inseparable. They were unbeatable. They were the family of his soul.


	2. Titan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's not dead, and she pays Oliver a visit. Who is this woman and who is her Master? Why does she stir thoughts and feelings in Oliver that he does not want?

It was almost a month later when he felt the hair raise on the back of his neck. He was in the apartment alone. Felicity and Will had gone to a double feature of some 50s monster movies that did not interest him at all. He would have gone – just to be with his wife and son – but Felicity had waved him off, telling her that this was her and Will’s time, and he needed to…watch some sports or clean the house (ridiculous with Raissa around) or whatever. They had sauntered out the door talking about popcorn and the relative merits of Mike & Ikes versus Red Hots. He was sure they would buy all three and be sick to their stomachs when they got home.

He missed them, but he relished the time that they spent together. William’s whole world had been Samantha, and when he had lost her so violently and through no fault of his own, it had rocked him to his soul as it would anyone, especially a child. Oliver had tried, and was trying so hard, to make it better; to give Will a normal, happy life with two people who loved him. But, he felt like his efforts – and his love – were falling short. He could not give Will the normalcy and the peace of his former life. He wanted to, but how did he walk away now with Diaz on the loose, just to appease his son? He needed someone to tell him what to do, and no one could. 

He had been looking out the bullet (and pretty much everything else) proof windows that presented a picturesque view of Star City when his skin had sprouted goose bumps. He felt a presence in the room. He had no idea how someone had breached Felicity’s security system, but he knew she would take it as a personal affront and a challenge to do better.

He turned from the window to find the green-eyed soldier facing him. She was in the same uniform he had seen her in before, but without the mask. Her face was delicate, almost elven. She was beautiful. 

“You survived,” he said simply, willing his body to relax and be ready at the same time.

“Yes,” she said. “No thanks to you. Not that I expected any.”

“We called 911. You had excellent medical care within four minutes.”

She snorted. “As if they knew what to do. Modern medicine is a sham. There are far better, and ancient ways, to heal wounds and sickness.”

He nodded. “You sound like you are from the League of Assassins. But you are not.” He paused, aware of the sword in her hand and his complete lack of his weapons. “So, who are you with, and why does your ‘Master’ want me dead?”

She shrugged, but he read the strain in her shoulders and the set of her mouth. She did not enjoy this mission. In fact, if he dared to speculate, she hated it. What did that mean?

“Does it matter? Dead is dead,” she said coolly.

He gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, since I’m the one dying, yes it matters. I’d like to know who hates me that much.”

She tilted her head to one side, her purple lips curving into a small smile. “Why do you think this is about hate, Mr. Queen? My Master does not hate you. He simply wants you out of the way.”

Oliver took his hands out of his pockets and took a step forward. Instantly she raised her sword and shook her head minutely. She was a pro, and there was no way she would let him get within striking distance unless she was the one initiating it.

“So, it’s business then,” he said casually, his mind dashing through his options. He had weapons, including two guns, stashed throughout the apartment. A Sig was inside the coffee table in a locked compartment that only his or Felicity’s fingerprint could open. He would have to take her down first and then get to the gun. The odds of that happening were not good. There was a bow and quiver under the couch. He could get to them quicker but they would be less effective at such a close range.

She smiled wider. “You are stalling, trying to discern a way to beat me.”

He smiled back. “Beat you? No. Survive you, yes.” The smile dropped from his face. “I have a wife and a young son. I can’t leave them.”

She shrugged again but he saw the shadow fall over her eyes. “We all have to do things we don’t want to. You should know that better than most.”

“Does doing something you don’t want to include killing me?” he asked softly. She stiffened and her face hardened into a stony mask. It had been a calculated risk. It would either strengthen her resolve or anger her. If she was angry she might make a mistake.

“Killing you is not a mistake,” she said coldly. “I do my Master’s bidding. What that is matters not to me.”

“What is your name?” Oliver asked. Surprise softened her features before she schooled her features again.

“That is not your concern.”

“It is. If you have honor, you won’t kill me without granting such a simple request.”

Her mouth pursed. Honor meant something to her. This woman, whoever she was and whomever she worked for, had a code that she lived by. She had called him a worthy foe indicating that she respected him. 

Her eyes narrowed as if she read his thoughts and knew he was looking for a chink in her armor. He held her gaze, ever aware of the sword poised between them.

“I am called Valkyrie.”

He openly gaped at her. “You’re a Titan!” he breathed. “Ra’s killed you. It was one of his biggest accomplishments.”

She laughed, her voice low and vibrato. “No. He thought he did. He left me for dead while my heart still beat, the arrogant fool. I recovered. I grew stronger so that I could challenge him again and end him forever.” She paused and tilted her head slightly to the side. “But you killed him before I could.” She paused again, as if consider her words. “I hated you for that, but my Master made me see that it was a good thing. An enemy vanquished is an enemy vanquished, and that is our goal. My ego blinded me to that.”

“I had help,” he murmured. “The Atom saved me after Ra’s pushed me over the dam.”

“Your lover, Felicity Smoak, saved you. She wore the Atom’s suit, but it was her that saved your life.”

He assessed her. She had knowledge that no one should have. How could she know that it was Felicity that saved him? There had been no one else there when she had set him on the ground and told him how much she wanted to kiss him. Something deep and primal roared inside him. Someone he had never sensed had been watching them, and that someone wanted him – them - dead. With a stab of ice in his gut, he knew that Valkyrie would klll Felicity and Dig and William after she had dispatched him.

“Don't do this,” he whispered. “You have honor. You have a code. You violate both when you kill someone without just cause.”

She threw back her head and laughed; a harsh, cruel sound. Her green eyes bored into his.

“Who decides what is a ‘just cause?’” Society? The courts? The rich who control the governments?” She advanced on him, fire and hatred burning in her eyes. “I answer to none of them. My allegiance in to another.”

“Your Master,” Oliver said soto voce. “How does he compel you? How did he compel you into servitude and blind obedience? How does he bind you?”

“That is not your business and of no import!” she raged. She brandished her sword. “The time for talking is over. Oliver Queen, the Green Arrow, brace yourself for death.”

She launched herself at him and their battle was epic. At one point he had used precious seconds to be able to access the Sig and had fired at her. The bullets missed. Hitting a moving target was so much harder than people thought. He had been surprised when she had pulled a semi-automatic and started firing at him from behind the couch. Ancient code or not, she knew how to wield modern weapons.

The end came when the SCPD rammed in the door and rushed the living room, most likely triggered by some failsafe that she had not stopped when she breached Felicity’s security system. Instantly Valkyrie turned and threw herself out the floor-to-ceiling window and vanished. Oliver snarled at the clueless and hopelessly overmatched cops. He was equally relieved and regretful. He had wanted to capture her more than defeat her. Something in her called to him, and he needed to find out why.


	3. Things go wrong...for everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is not happy that her tech failed. Valkyrie is furious that she failed. The Master doubts his very best warrior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the rating to Explicit for this chapter, although it is a brief scene. That scene dances around the line of non-con. It does NOT involved major characters, however, so don't fear for our favorite pair.

Felicity had foregone her tablet and was furiously typing on her laptop. Her lips were in a tight line and her brows were lowered over her intense eyes. She was livid that someone had breached her system.

“Fuck!” she screamed and slammed the laptop shut. Oliver jumped. Felicity did not swear. She did not get violent. His eyes flew to hers.

She thrust her hands up into the air and waved them around. “I have no clue, Oliver. No. Fucking. Clue. How she got in! It’s not the trail is hard to find. It doesn’t exist. It’s just…not there, and that is not possible!” She dropped her head into her hands. “I’m so stupid. So arrogant and stupid. I didn’t think anyone on this planet could get past this system.” She raised her wet eyes and looked at him. “I was so sure,” she whispered. “After all the fracking times that people just waltzed into the bunker, I thought I had finally created a system that couldn’t be breached.”

That she had switched from fuck to frack told him that her rage was being replaced with sorrow. He walked over to her and crouched down, taking her cold and shaking hands in his.

“Felicity,” he said softly. “Nothing is impenetrable. Nothing is perfect. You know that.”

A tear slid down her right cheek. 

“That’s part of the problem, Oliver. I was such an arrogant fool because I thought that I had bested that truth. Talk about hubris!”

He reached out and stroked her cheek, his thumb arresting the tear midway down her cheek. It sat on his thumb and he brought it to his lips and pulled into his mouth. Her sorrow was salty and wet.

“Felicity, let’s look at this realistically. There is no perfect system. There is no perfect defense against people who want to hurt us. The point is that people want to hurt us. This woman – this “Valkyrie” and her Master want us dead. We need to focus on finding out who they are and why they think we need to die.” 

He stroked her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes, imploring her to hear him

“Felicity, I have no idea who this Master is. I don't have a clue why he wants me dead. I learned about the Titan sect when I was training with Ra’s in Nanda Parbat. He considered them dangerous even though at that point he thought he had killed Vaklyrie. It bothered him that he didn’t know who their leader was; the one she calls Master. If Ra’s had no clue who he was it makes sense that we can’t find anything about it. Until we know his identity and how big his group is, we have no worthwhile defense, much less an offense. We need answers, and you are the only one who can get them for us.”

She nodded and swiped at her eyes. Then she leaned forward and crushed her mouth against his. Her tongue darted out, his lips parted and she pulled his tongue into her mouth and sucked on it, hard. She kissed the living daylights out of him, and then just as suddenly, she pulled away.

“I’m on it. You go get Will and make dinner, and I will track this freak, Valkyrie, down.”

Oliver felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t told her about the kiss, or his reaction to the Valkyrie’s hips grinding against him. He was so ashamed. There was something very seriously fucking wrong with him when he had the love of his life with him every single day and he responded to a strange woman who was trying to kill him. What the eff did that say about him? It said that he was even more messed up than he had ever thought.

He closed his eyes for a moment, blew out a calming breath and rose to go get their son.

 

It was three AM when Felicity came to bed. He had tried to ply her with wine, chocolate, and sex so she would come to bed. She had refused all three, although she had stroked him through his pajama bottoms and asked for a rain check. She would not rest until she knew how her system had been breached.

He turned and pulled her onto his chest as soon as she tugged the covers over her body.

“So?” he asked.

She sighed. “Stupidity on my part. I forgot the most basic, basic part of technology.” She blew out an angry, frustrated breath. “Electricity. She used the nano-second it took for the system to re-engage after she cut the power to breach my program. She had a damn good virus ready and waiting. The system is hardwired to our power and I have a back-up generator online in the basement, but it takes a fraction of a second to kick in, and she used that to get in. I am a fraking idiot.”

There was a generator in the basement? Oliver shook his head. His wife was always thinking five miles ahead.

“Is there any way, ANY way to avoid that millisecond delay between the power being cut and generator powering in?”

She paused and sighed. “No, but there is a way – there is a way – somehow – to protect the system in that moment. I just have to write it.” She threw her hands into the air. “I have to realize it, acknowledge it! I have to not be a fracking-“

Oliver rolled over on top of her and stopped her self-flagellation with a brutal kiss.

When he pulled his mouth away, his hands bracketed her head and he glared down at her.

“Stop it. Right now. You do not get to denigrate my wife, the love of my life, the mother of my son—“

“Oliver,” she whispered. “This was my fault—“

“No. It. Wasn’t!” he said in his best Arrow voice. “You are a genius. You are brilliant and amazing and you think so far outside the box that it doesn’t even exist. But no one, NO ONE can think of every contingency. Unless you are literally the fucking universe, it is not possible. So, stop. Stop right now.”

Tears slid down her cheeks.

“You could have died, “ she choked out. “You face death on more days of the year than you don’t, but few of them are because of me. Because of ME, Oliver. I couldn't survive if I caused your death.”

He gripped her face harder and lowered his until they were nose-to-nose. 

“Listen to me,” he ground out. “It would not be your fault. It would be Valkyrie’s and whoever her psychotic master is. They would be the ones that killed me. And you,” he gave her head a little shake. “You have to survive. Promise me, Felicity. Because Will needs you. Because I need you to go on to have a good life. To be happy—“

“No!” she screamed up at him, yanking his hands from her face and vaulting out of the bed. She turned to him, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, her cerulean eyes blazing at him. “Fuck. That! Don't you tell me to be happy, Oliver! I would live. I would raise Will and love Will and tell him every fucking day how much you loved him and how proud of him you would be. But there would be no happy for me, Oliver. There would be no light or other love. I would mourn you until my dying day, and I know you would do the same if our roles were reversed. I don’t have words for what we have, but there is no leaving it behind or getting over it. I don’t want there to be. I will never share my heart with another man in any way except our son.”

Angry, fierce tears were streaming down her face. He shot out of the bed and pulled her into his arms. She started to sob into his chest and then her fists pummeled him. He pulled her close.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You’re right. There would be no happy for either of us if we lost the other. We would survive, for Will, for any other child that we had, but there would be no one else. Nothing would stop the pain.”

She cried hard against him and he knew it was more than just tonight. It was everything. It was the stress and the pain, and the love. Love was a blessing; a gift. It was also a burden, albeit one that was willingly borne. 

When her tears subsided she looked up at him, her eyes beseeching.

“Do you want us to have children?”

She was raw and vulnerable and his heart clenched. He swooped in and kissed her hard before pulling back to look her straight in the eye.

“Yes. Dear God, yes. I want to end this chapter of our lives. I want to stop being the Arrow, go somewhere – anywhere – and have a family with you. I want all the domesticity that you can’t stand while you finally get to build and run that company of yours. I am going to be the stay-at-home dad, the house-husband and the kept man who takes care of you and our kids.”

She laughed with her eyes wet and red. 

“Oliver Queen, previous billionaire playboy, wants to be a house-husband?

He grinned at her.

“Yes. It is everything I didn’t have or see growing up. Our few months in Ivy Town showed me what I really want. What I need. You go be the genius you are and change the world, and I, and our children, will be waiting for you at home every single night. That is the future I want.”

New tears shone in her eyes and she pulled him close and kissed his lips so softly.

“Oliver Jonas Queen, I love you with every atom in my body. You are my always.”

Oliver kissed her. “Always. Both of us. No one is going to stop us. We deserve our happily ever after, Felicty. We will have it.”

 

She threw her sword against the wall, following with a string of violent curses in six languages. HOW could she have failed again? She was the best. Not just the best of the Master’s assassins. She was THE best alive. 

She yanked the gun out of the holster at her back and threw that too. Then she yanked every single weapon out of the rack and threw that. She threw the rack. She threw the table. She didn’t stop until every single thing is the room was displaced or thrown. Her heart banged in her chest and her lungs screamed for oxygen.

She ripped off her mask and threw back her head and screamed. She screamed from the bottom of her soul for every time in the last thirty-three years she had wanted to and had not. For every thing she had denied herself in the service of HIM. Her discipline, her goals, her mantra disappeared and she screamed and screamed until her throat bled and could no longer bring forth her fury.

When her voice turned to a croak, she whirled around, looking for something else to destroy with her rage. She dared not call one of her acolytes. She would kill them in seconds. She would be Death in a way she had never allowed herself to be.

She was alone. She had been alone for most of her life, but for the first time since she had taken the Oath it hurt her. She wanted someone to rail at, someone to vent her rage upon who would absorb it, take it, and pull her close and assuage it.

She wanted that person. She needed, for the first time in 33 years, she NEEDED someone. An image bloomed, in her mind and she screamed and punched herself in the head. Oliver Queen – the Green Arrow was NOT that person. He could not ever be. He didn’t need to declare his love and loyalty to his wife. It oozed from him. He had hated how his body reacted to hers. He had hated the connection between them even as it had shocked and frightened her. She had never felt that before. She craved and rejected it at the same time. If that was the precursor to love, she wanted nothing to do with it. It made her weak and distracted. It made her less.

No it didn’t, a horrible voice whispered. You would give everything to roll yourself in that feeling. You would give your position, your pride, your life, to have Oliver press his body against you, kiss you with his perfect lips, and tell you that he loved you forever.

She stormed to the medical cabinet, and for the first time in her life, yanked out a syringe and shot herself full of a potent painkiller. The she rounded the corner and threw herself onto the cot and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths and willing the chemical to work quickly. It did, and she fell into unconsciousness.

 

He considered the options as he stretched out in the bubbling, warm water. Valkryie had failed, not just for the first time, but the second. She had not begged or pleaded or whined. She had informed him in her typical flat, emotionless voice, that the Arrow’s wife’s security system had summoned the police despite her virus. She apologized in clipped tones and told him she would regroup and attack again. He heard the rage and the regret in her voice. He had said nothing.

But sitting now, in the hot bubbling water with some random whore’s mouth wrapped around his cock and sucking, he wondered about his Valkyrie. She had been his very best for years. Indefatigable. Undefeatable. She was a machine, and that was not only rare in soldiers but especially in women. If she possessed the same hormones and the accompanying emotional and mental fluctuations that made them a bit less than reliable than male assassins, he did not see it. She was thorough, brutal, efficient, and loyal. He had wanted to take her to his bed, but she had made it clear that would not happen. She had defied him, and he had let her. Because she was the very best and she spread the fear and respect for him far and wide. She had survived Ra’s A Ghul and wounded him badly. Without the Pit, Ra’s would have died. She had raged against the fact that Oliver Queen had killed him before she had completely recovered. He had quieted her but at the same time admired her fury. She was truly and completely a warrior. She would never be tamed, never be cowed by something so pathetic as love or as base as desire. She was the perfect weapon. Yes, somehow, Oliver Queen and his wife had thwarted her. The wife. He mused. Perhaps he should learn more about her. She might be a worthwhile acquisition. 

He signaled his major domo and told him to summon his second-best assassin. He was a man, and if it was the female part of Valkyrie that had failed, Brutus would not fall prey to it. He had waited and chafed under Valkyrie’s reign as the best. He would do anything to take that top spot.

The whore, sensing his disinterest and the frailty of her position, sucked him deep into her throat, swallowing him, and pulled on his testicles. He arched up, gave in to the resurfaced desire, and forced her head to take him even deeper. She gagged repeatedly as he shot his load down her throat. There were no seeds in his release, but she didn’t know that. No one did. The only person who had, had died at his sword many years ago. He could not create an heir, so he would find one. His choice had been Valkyrie for the last ten years. Now, it was open to other contenders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think. Is it too much that Oliver is physically attracted to someone even though he loves Felicity? Is the mystery of who Valkryie and the Master enough to keep you reading? Let me know. You can also find me on Twitter @WriteReal1. I will tweet updates on there.


	4. We are just fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are angry that Oliver is "cheating" on Felicity; you probably aren't reading this chapter. For those of you hanging around, let me make this perfectly clear; Oliver is not emotionally or physically cheating on Felicity. He feels a pull towards Valkyrie, but he HATES that. He HATES that his body responds to hers. But, let's be grown ups about this. You can be blissfully in love with someone and be smacked upside the head by an attraction to someone; especially a complete stranger. That is what this story is about. It's real (see my handle) and it's messy, and it is something that every person in a committed relationship deals with at some point in time, at some level. I am not going to apologize for this realism. If you don't like it, I totally understand, but I'm not going to write anything to make people comfortable. In my head, our Olicity are real, with all the warts and bumps that every relationship has.

“You MUST stay away from her!” Nyssa exclaimed. “She is not as she seems. She did not survive my father’s blade, yet she lives. Her Master has no Lazarus Pit to bring her back. There is some dark magic at work there, and you must avoid it at all costs!”

Felicity and Oliver looked at each other wide-eyed as they listened to Nyssa’s strident voice over the phone’s speaker.

“We’re trying our best,” Felicity said dryly. “She’s the one who keeps coming to kill Oliver.”

“What do you know about her and her Master?” Oliver asked. “I’ve heard of the Valkyrie and the Titans, but it was Ra’s telling me how he had bested her and that the Titans were falling apart.”

“He did best her,” Nyssa said. “I was there. I saw the life leave her body. My father said the ritual words to guide her soul away from the eternal fires. There was no life in her when we left her there. That is why I am warning you—“

“We get it,” Felicity interjected impatiently. “What do you know about this group and their leader?”

Nyssa sighed. “Nothing good. Nothing…recent. My father talked about the Titans as rivals, but not worthy ones. He said they had no purpose, no mission, that their leader the “Master” only sought power for the sake of power.”

Nyssa paused, her mind roving all the things she knew and needed to explain.

“The Titans are a new force compared to the league. My father said they first appeared around five hundred years ago. They were ruthless and blood thirsty. He called them common thugs because they went wherever they wished, did as they pleased, took what they wanted, and cared nothing for the consequences.”

“Did the League and the Titans ever fight each other?”

“Oh yes,” Nyssa said. “My father said he faced them many times over the years. The Master seemed to have a particular affinity for anything that Ra’s was interested in. If Ra’s was cultivating a relationship with a government or an organization, the Master and the Titans would show up to interfere.”

“Who is this ‘Master?’” Felicity asked. “Obviously, if he’s lived this long, he has access to a pit just like Ra’s did.”

“He does not!” Nyssa insisted. “His longevity comes from another source.”

Oliver frowned and asked although he dreaded the answer.

“Like what?”

“Blood magic,” Nyssa whispered. “Blood sacrifice. He does that which even Ra’s would not do.”

“Oh great,” Felicity muttered. “Sacrifices. I don’t even want to consider what comes next.”

“Back to Felicity’s question,” Oliver persisted. “Who is this guy? Where did he come from?”

“I don’t know,” Nyssa said. “But I believe that my father knew who he was. Their enmity seemed...personal. I’d never seen Ra’s fly into such a rage as when the Master was mentioned. He hated the Master with every part of his being.” She paused. “It was one of the few times in my life that I was truly frightened of my father.”

“So, obviously this Master guy knows Ra’s is dead and the League dismantled,” Felicity mused. “Why Oliver?”

“There could be many reasons,” Nyssa said. “Many still consider Oliver to be the real Ra’s al Ghul. Many did not accept Merlyn or myself as the true successor. To that end, he might want to kill Oliver so that he can say that he destroyed the Ra’s.”

Felicity shook her head. “That doesn’t quite ring true. If he wanted to destroy the League, guess what? It’s already destroyed. If he wanted to grab whatever control or power Ra’s had as the head of the League, it’s already out there. Oliver has had nothing to do with the League since he walked away.”

“Then there is only one other possibility,” Nyssa said firmly. “If this is not about Ra’s or the League, then it is personal. The Master wants Oliver dead, and he will keep sending his best assassin until she succeeds.”

Felicity’s head dropped to the table in frustration. Oliver reached over and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Okay,” he said casually, hoping his voice didn’t give anything away. “We don’t know much about the Master. What about Valkyrie? I remember Ra’s boasting about how he had ‘gutted her like a pig,’ but he never said much else. What do you know about her?”

“She is the best fighters I have ever seen,” Nyssa said, unable to keep the awe out of her voice. “I had seen her fight once before she and my father battled. She was merciless and swift. She took down 11 of the League’s finest in mere minutes.” Nyssa paused. “I was young then. Not as skilled as I needed to be to face her, but after seeing her, I vowed to myself that one day I would be as good as her.”

“Oh great,” Felicity grumbled. “You’re fan-girling.”

“She earned my respect!” Nyssa thundered in reply. “My father bragged of beating her – of killing her – but when he told that story, he omitted the fact that he was only able to defeat her after she was badly injured. During the battle between the Titans and the League, a bolder fell on her as they fought inside the caves of the Tranlain mountains. Her right arm was broken, and one of her legs was maimed. She still faced him without fear. He ran his sword through her. I saw it with my own eyes. He did win the fight, but he did not defeat her. I saw my father’s hubris that day, and I knew it was a weakness.”

“When did you next hear of her?” Oliver pressed.

“A year after you killed Ra’s,” Nyssa said. “Whispers, rumors reached me. I sent those loyal to me to find the truth. They returned with proof that she lived, and that she was still the Master’s finest.”

“This is all fascinating,” Felicity said as her voice betrayed that sentiment. “But we need facts about her. What is her real name? Where did she come from? How can we stop her? We know what she looks like. My security system captured plenty of footage of her but she shows up in no facial-recognition database.”

“You assume that she had a name and a life outside the Titans,” Nyssa said. “Do not make that assumption. The Master is known for breeding his own fighters. She likely has never existed outside the Titans.”

“Oh gross,” Felicity said. “So, you’re saying we have no way of finding out anything about her? No way of finding a chink in her armor?”

“Not exactly,” Nyssa said. She hesitated. “I believe we are seeing a chink, as you call it.”

“What?” Felicity demanded, her brow furrowed in disbelief. “Tell me! I don’t see one.”

Nyssa spoke carefully.

“The only person to have ever taken down Valkyrie is my father, and as I explained, he did so under extreme circumstances. The rocks falling on her stopped her more than he did. Before, and since that moment, the only other person to have defeated her is…Oliver.”

Oliver and Felicity’s eyes met, and to his shame, his dropped first. He felt the query in her mind as his eyes skated away. Please don’t ask, he begged in his mind. It’s not real. There is no one for me except you.

“Dig is the one that stopped her the first time,” Oliver said quietly. “Felicity’s security system bringing in the Star City police is what sent her running the second time. We never finished a fight.”

“That has not happened before. Ra’s stabbing her is the only time she had not walked away from a battle, and the reasons were beyond human control. No matter who came in at the end, Oliver, you are the only one who has put her in the position where she was captured or had to flee.”

“She called me the first worthy opponent she had faced in years,” Oliver murmured reluctantly. “But, let’s be blunt, I’m not that good. My sword skills are not stellar, and she disarmed me the first time rather easily. The quarters were too small for me to use my bow the second time.”

“If you do not believe that you truly defeated or disarmed her,” Nyssa said softly. “Then she either quailed in facing you, or she let you defeat her.”

Shock radiated through Oliver’s body and he shook his head even as he looked to the plywood that covered the broken window. It made zero sense for this elite warrior to falter against him. Who the hell was she? Why did he feel like he knew her? 

Felicity, so attuned to his emotions and thoughts, and unfettered from her earlier constraint now that she was his partner and wife, pinned him with her searching gaze.

“Thank you, Nyssa,” she said, her eyes never leaving Oliver’s. “We will get back to you. You’ve been a big help.”

“Not nearly enough,” Nyssa grumbled. “I will tell Thea and Roy that you wish them well.”

“Tell that we love them,” Oliver said, not shying away from telling this tough, proud warrior his feelings. “We miss them.” He paused. “And you, our good friend.”

There was a moment of silence from Nyssa. “I will do so. And I, the same to you. Be well.”

 

There was silence between them as they moved about the apartment. For the first time in a very long time, Felicity longed for the house in Ivy Town with its two levels and generous square footage. They both needed some space. She knew Oliver was not telling her something. She felt it in her bones. She also knew that he wanted to tell her, but something was stopping him. She wanted give him time and space to tell her on his own. But they needed answers and a plan, so she was going to have to push him.

Oliver started the dishwasher as she wandered into the kitchen for her second cup of coffee.

“The workers will be here in about an hour to fix the window,” Oliver said, too casually.

“Oh great,” she groaned. “The bill for that will be fun.”

Oliver tilted his head. “You know we’re okay. Ever since you accessed some of the deeply hidden off-shore Queen accounts, money has not been a problem.”

“That’s true,” she admitted. “But I didn’t grow up with platinum spoon in my mouth,” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. “I still quale at spending $5 for a coffee.”

He chuckled and pulled her into his arms, their hips lightly pressing against each other. “I know. You’re definitely going to be the one keeping us solvent. I’ve been obscenely rich and terrifyingly poor, but I know nothing about managing money.”

She reached up and kissed him quickly. “I know. That’s why I’m keeping control of the checkbook, and that’s why it is going to hurt to pay for those new windows, no matter what our bank balance is.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

“I would be so lost without you,” he murmured. “You are my everything.”

“And you are mine,” she countered, her tongue dancing against his lips. Oliver deepened their kiss and their tongues stroked each other. She felt the familiar and welcome heat spiraling up between them. This was going to a wonderful place, but a place without answers.

As gently as she could, she pulled back, and smiled a bit at his confused and disappointed face. She stroked his jaw, her fingers tickled by his beard.

“We need to talk, “ she said softly, and she saw a shadow drop over his eyes. For a moment he completely stilled, and then, reluctantly, he nodded.

She intertwined their fingers and led him to the couch. They sat, facing each other, her right knee and his left folded and pressing against each other. She stroked his hand, hoping that the caress and the physical connection would help him.

He looked down and her stomach plummeted. Whatever he had to tell her he was ashamed of. Her mind flew to Valkyrie. Had something happened that Oliver had not told her about? Her stomach filled with ice. She would kill that bitch if she had emotionally wounded him.

He squeezed her hands and her eyes flew up to his. There was sadness, and damn it, shame in his eyes. 

“When Valkyrie and I fought the first time, she knocked me down and…” his eyes dropped. “She pinned me. She had her sword to my throat. She said I was a worthy opponent. She seemed…” he looked up at Felicity. “Reluctant to kill me even though she made it clear that her Master had commanded it.” He blew out a breath and squeezed Felicity’s hand. 

“I tried to stall, hoping that either I could get her off me or that Dig would come to the rescue.” He pulled a face. “Thank god for Dig.”

“Hey,” she said. “That’s why we are a team. We need each other.”

He nodded.

“I know. Anyway, she…” he paused and shame covered his face. “She tried to…” he gulped. “She made it sexual. She was pushing down on me, and she..touched me.”

Felicity’s face morphed from gentle understanding to pure rage.

“I’m going to kill her,” she whispered. 

He squeezed her hand. He had to tell her everything.

“I—I, my body…responded,” His eyes were wet. “I don’t know why. I fought it. I didn’t want it,” he whispered. “I hated it, but I couldn’t stop it.”

She pressed a finger against his lips. “Oliver, your adrenaline was high. You were facing death, and she used those factors against you.” She reached up and cupped his jaw, and then leaned forward, pinning him in place with her fierce blue eyes. “I know you love me. I know you would never cheat on me. I am telling you, with complete honesty, that you have nothing to feel badly about. I want to kill her for putting you in that position, and I do not blame you at all.”

He took in a couple of gulps of air. He needed to tell her everything.

“She kissed me,” he said. “I didn’t respond. I didn’t kiss her back.” He looked into her eyes, baring his soul. “But, Felicity, there is something about her that draws me in. I feel like I know her, like I’ve known her for a long time. And I hate that. I hate it so much, but it’s there, and I can’t stop it.”

Oliver was shocked when Felicity leaned forward and pulled him into a fierce hug. He clung to her as her hands roamed over his back, rubbing and soothing him. Then she pulled back and cupped his face with her hands once more.

“I’m not surprised.” 

His eyebrows shot up and she chuckled. 

“Clearly, there is something very different and bizarre going on with this woman. She should be dead, but she’s alive. The Titans remain a complete mystery even to the League. Ra’s hated her master. Nyssa thinks there is dark magic going on.” 

She stroked his cheek. “I don’t know what is going on, but from the moment you told me about her, I had this strange feeling that we hadn’t seen the last of her. That there was something…important about her.”

She ran her fingers across his lips and then gripped his face with her hands.

“We’re going to find out who she is and who this demented Master is, and nothing, nothing is going to come between us. She crossed a line, and I want to know why, and then,” she gave him an evil smile. “Then, I am going to destroy her for touching my husband.”


	5. Questions and more questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of action in this chapter and more questions than answers. The Master and Valkyrie are more invested in killing Oliver than anyone thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot going on in this chapter, and we get some hints as to why the Master wants to kill Oliver. It's not at all why anyone thought. Please let me know what you think and share on Twitter where I am @WriteReal1. My Muse loves ideas, suggestions, and enthusiasm. I hope you enjoy!

Felicity sat at her bank of computers, collectively, her baby. She was on a mission; to discover who Valkyrie and her Master were, and to destroy them. A sour bile rose in her throat as she thought of that temptress assassin putting her hands on Oliver. She was selfish, manipulative, and evil. If Oliver’s dedication to Felicity was any less, the bitch might have gotten her wish.

As it was, Felicity had no concerns about Oliver’s fidelity. He wasn’t the type to cheat, not on her. She wasn’t either. Maybe it was cliché or unbelievable, but they really were the perfect match. She had felt in that first moment when he had walked up to desk and said her name in drawn out syllables. Fel-icity-Smo-ak. Their connection had been instantaneously overwhelming and, strangely, welcoming. She and Oliver Queen, whether in this life or another, were bound. They completed each other. 

Of course, it had take years for them to make it work. He was convinced he was too bad and damaged for her, and that he would put her life in danger if they became a couple. So lame, Oliver. You were scared. Fess up. 

She had had her own hang-ups. She wasn’t good enough for the Oliver Queen. No one ever stayed. She was brilliant, but not socially adept. He was Oliver Queen who was always suave and confident in the public eye. Still, she knew the real man, the person beset by doubts and pain. They were perfectly matched misfits.

She shook herself from her ruminations. The League of Assassin was practically non-existent online. They were a huge presence in reality but were ghosts in cyberspace, even on the dark web. The Titans were a whole different level of secret. She could fine nothing worth mentioning on them. 

So, she reached out to all of the criminal elements they had faced and who owed them. She needed intel. She needed a starting point. This killer, who was trying to tempt her husband and got nowhere, would likely do what she could to impede Felicity’s ability to find information. Oliver Queen had made it clear that there was only one woman for him, and if you wanted to live, you didn’t threaten her. That wouldn’t sit well with a female killer who desired him. 

It was three days, THREE days, before she got anything worthwhile. The Valkyrie wasn’t just a TITAN, she was the best of them. Only the Master was higher that her. She was his heir apparent, and despite Felicity’s loathing for the woman, she had to admit that she was impressed. This was a strong, accomplished woman. Too bad she had sold her soul to some faceless, and no doubt, corrupt, Master. 

She started tracing back when Valkyrie had appeared in online discussions. Some of the comments were clearly sour grapes. Valkyrie was almost supernatural in her abilities, and Felicity groaned at that. They really, really weren’t prepared for another meta. Please, just let is be someone who is greedy and stupid and easily scared off. 

It wasn’t long – not long enough – before they were attacked again. The assassin crashed through the living room window, his sword already out. He was good. He was very good, but he was not fighting for the life of his family as Oliver was. Felicity summoned the Star City PD, but she knew they couldn’t begin to handle this guy.

Felicity scrambled for the 9mm she knew was in the high kitchen cabinet chock full of holiday decorations and the oversized platter they used for the big meals. The man and Oliver were locked in a battle that shoved their living room furniture around as the two men vied for the top spot. She didn’t have a clear shot, but the moment she did…

Oliver slammed his forearm into the assassin’s sword and through sheer brute strength, forced the man back. As the warrior sought his footing and equilibrium, Felicity saw her opportunity. She pulled the trigger twice.

The man jerked back and fell onto his back, his face a mask of disbelief and shock. She strode towards him. He wasn’t dead yet, and he needed to be. She saw the where the bullets had imbedded into his bullet proof armor and shifted her aim to his head.

Oliver’s hand suddenly closed over hers. Her eyes jerked up to meet his solemn and loving eyes.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “He’s down, and he’s in no shape to fight. He could tell us everything that we need to know.”

Felicity’s eyes bored into him and she saw no judgment. Oliver was right. They needed answers, and that was more important than her ending the killer who had come for her husband. 

The SCPD did not want to let Oliver and Felicity talk to their prisoner. However, there was the fact that every single member of the force that encountered said prisoner was quickly rendered shitless in his presence. The man exuded death, and it had taken six armed men and two tasers to get him into the back of a police SUV.

When Oliver and Felicity finally gained access to the man it wasn’t in a standard interrogation room. He was chained to the wall in a holding cell in the basement of the SCPD headquarters that most suspects never saw. There weren’t any cameras or bugs. Whatever happened in that cell stayed in that cell, and that was the way the brass wanted it. Whoever – WHATever - this guy was, his beef was with Oliver Queen, and they were happy to let that man and his clearly pissed off wife deal with him.

Oliver, par for the course, had tried to convince Felicity to let him interrogate the assassin alone. Even before he had presented the idea he knew Felicity would shoot him down. There still were skills Oliver possessed that he had not talked to her about, much less shown. It wasn’t that he planned to use the more extreme methods he had used in the past – much to his shame – but he could still elicit answers using brutal incentives.

“Nuh uh,” Felicity said and pushed past him into the barren cell and turned towards the now unmasked assassin. “We’re a team, and I have every right to know who this guy is, who he’s working for, and why he is here and not Valkyrie.”

The assassin’s eyes widened for a micro-moment, but Felicity caught it.

“That’s right,” she purred to the man. “We know who she is and that she is part of the Titans. It won’t be long before we know your name.”

The man sneered at her and Felicity gave him a low chuckle. “You don’t believe me now, but you will. My husband has…skills. Skills you will not like.” Oliver caught the Taken reference and chuckled.

Oliver hid surprise at her comment. He had alluded to his sordid past in this area, but he had certainly never given her details. Apparently his genius wife didn’t need them to strike fear into the heart of a heartless assassin. 

Oliver didn’t hit the man once. He knew it would be a waste of time. If the Titans had one quarter of the fortitude of the League, a beating wouldn’t begin to budge one of their elite killers. Oliver had drawn a boning knife, pilfered from his own kitchen and secreted under his shirt, and put it right against the man’s abdomen, which had been stripped of his armor, and then slowly slid it down to his crotch. The man had fought to hide his fear, but the sharp smell of his sweat betrayed him.

Felicity had sauntered back and forth, taunting the man with lurid and vulgar explanations of what Oliver would do to the man’s anatomy if he did not give them the information they wanted. At first, Oliver had been stunned, and then concerned at his wife’s brazen cruelty. It was only when she had turned away from the man and given Oliver a wink and a saucy grin that he realized she was nowhere near going dark. She was playing a part and relishing and pretending to be someone she was not.

As in most things in their lives, they fell into perfect sync. He dragged the blade against the man’s flesh, opening razor-thin lines of bright red blood. He pressed harder against the man’s most tender spots, ripping small tears into the clothing that covered those areas. 

The assassin – the Titan – broke the Golden Rule of trained killer soldiers; he begged.

“I will die a more terrible death at the hands of the Master if I tell you anything,” he exclaimed. “Everything you threatened is nothing compared to what he will do to me.”

“Sucks to be you,” Felicity snarked. “Shouldn’t have taken the assignment.”

“I had to,” he insisted. “You do not refuse the Master, and it was my one chance to unseat Valkyrie as his number one. He would have slit my throat had I hesitated.”

“You didn’t hesitate,” Felicity snapped, getting into his face and practically snarling at him. “You were more than happy to kill my husband. You just didn’t realize how badly outmatched you were.”

“If you had not been there I would have won,” he muttered. “No one knew that you fought together.”

Felicity preened. “Thank you. I'm happy to be underestimated. It is one of the best weapons in any arsenal.”

Oliver bit back a laugh. Dear God. Thank heavens Felicity had no designs on taking over the world because she fucking could without breaking a sweat.

Oliver had sliced a thin but significant line under the man’s testicles when he finally broke. In all fairness, Felicity’s groundless promises of witness protection had tipped the balance, and in the end the man spilled his guts.

The Master hated the League. Oliver was the rightful Ra’s and as such had to be killed. Once the League’s true leader had died at his command the Master would ascend as the rightful Demon’s Head, and the League and the Titans would unite as they were meant to be.

The man – Thitus – did not know why his Master wanted the two factions united, only that his leader felt it was his due – his ‘inheritance.’ Felicity’s wide eyes and rounded lips that only Oliver could see told him that she realized the importance of those words. There was a definite connection between the two groups, and it had less to do with power and more to do with entitlement. Ra’s violent hatred of the Titans, which had always seemed extreme, was far more deeply rooted than they had expected.

Once they had extracted all the information they could, Oliver and Felicity had turned the exhausted and terrified man over to the SCPD with the strong advice that the force hand him over to ARGUS who was infinitely more capable of dealing with him. As a precaution they had left an anonymous message for ARGUS that the police had a very important and dangerous asset in their possession that needed collecting. 

As soon as they got home, Felicity started pacing the apartment.

“There is a very old and personal connection between the Master and Ra’s. The Master feels entitled to the title of Ra’s. So much so that he demands the death of someone that the oldest and most fervent members of the League consider to be their rightful leader; you.”

She glanced at him, and Oliver frowned.

“We are talking seriously hard-core acolytes who adhere to the strict canon of ascension. That is some serious shit, Oliver.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course it is. I was an outsider; someone not to be trusted, but the moment that Ra’s anointed me as his Heir those followers blindly pledged fealty to me. Ra’s kept his cards close to his chest, and he tested me at every turn, but he encouraged League members to completely accept me. Only Maseo was in his confidence.”

“So why does the Master think he deserves to be Ra’s? Why does he ignore the chain of ascension of Merlyn and then Nyssa?”

Oliver shrugged. “Because he doesn’t want the League dismantled as Nyssa did?”

Felicity shook her head. “No. It’s more than that. He has enough elite fighters. With the League dismantled he no longer has a challenger. He should welcome that. Instead, he is trying to resuscitate the League. Why? What does it mean to him? Why does he…care?”

They stared at each other wordlessly, searching for answers. Felicity broke their locked gazes and paced faster.

“The League is important to him. He doesn’t want to defeat it. He wants to rule it. He wants to be Ra’s. He feels like he is the real Ra’s. He—“

She spun around and faced Oliver. “Ra’s and the Master didn’t just know each other. They were related. The throne is inherited from father to son. Ra’s only chose you because he had no son. The Master is the next in line.”

Oliver nodded but then shook his head. “Why would Ra’s deny a male heir if he had one? If the Master wanted the throne, why wouldn’t Ra’s give it to him?”

Felicity resumed pacing. “I don’t know, but I don’t think the Master is Ra’s son. He’s related; maybe a nephew or a younger brother. Someone Ra’s didn’t want to pass the throne to no matter how long he ruled.”

“If the Master went off to form his own group then Ra’s told him that he would never have the throne. Something happened between them that made Ra’s refuse to name the Master as his heir.”

“Yes,” Felicity said. “Something severed their bond.” Felicity frowned. “Ra’s was all about tradition. Whatever happened, it greatly impacted him. Either the Master overstepped his bounds in the absence of Ra’s not having a son, or Ra’s found him unworthy.”

“We have to talk to Nyssa,” Oliver said. “She would know more about Ra’s family and the line of succession.”

“Yes,” Felicity nodded. “We also have to find out more about Valkyrie’s origins. Ra’s had a particular hatred of her. You said he bragged about killing her; that it made him euphoric. It wasn’t just that he had killed his adversary’s best. There was a personal connection between Ra’s and Valkyrie. That’s why he so desperately wanted to kill her, and why she so desperately wants to kill you.” 

Nyssa did not take kindly to being summoned, but she appreciated that Oliver and Felicity only did so out of great urgency. She slipped into their apartment via the balcony and was grateful that they kept the room dim. Old habits died hard.

She sat and listened to their story, and her unease intensified. She had always suspected there was far more to Ra’s hatred of the Master and the Titans, and everything she was hearing supported that. The trouble was, she didn’t have much to offer.

“When a new Ra’s ascends, he can purge the archives of whatever he wishes. Obviously I was not born then, but I did hear that the scribes were much dismayed at what my father ordered destroyed.” She paused. “However, there was always a record that remained intact to preserve the history of the League. There was one man, the Record Keeper, who kept it, and he was rarely seen. Only he and current Ra’s could access the complete archives unless the current Ra’s was unable to rule and the head advisors needed information. The Record Keeper always had an apprentice in the event of his sudden death to ensure that an accurate record was kept.”

She paused again. “The Record Keeper that lived during my father’s rule died soon after Malcolm took the throne.” Seeing Oliver’s scowl she hastened to clarify things. “I do not think Malcolm had anything to do with his death. The Record Keeper had long been in poor health. His apprentice took his place. When I had the Throne he chose an apprentice. I dismantled the League, but I gave that man and his apprentice a safe place to live and the means to protect and maintain the archives.”

“So you know how to reach him?” Felicity asked, hope brightening her face.

“I do,” Nyssa said solemnly. “But that is not a guarantee that he allow us to see the records. With the League destroyed he is under no obligation to do as I ask.”

“What about Oliver?” Felicity pushed. “Would he consider Oliver Ra’s?”

Nyssa nodded. “He was of the old guard despite his relative youth.” Her dark eyes swiveled to Oliver. “He might feel compelled to obey you.”

Oliver sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was bust into someone’s house pretending to be the Demon’s Head and demanding fealty. He looked at Felicity and she pursed her lips. Right. They didn’t have much choice. Another assassin, or Valkyrie, would come for them. Of that they could be certain. They had to get the information.

“Okay,” he said resignedly. “Where is he?”

“I will take you,” Nyssa said cryptically. “I still have access to the League’s remaining resources and coffers. I will arrange transport.”

“When do we leave?” Felicity asked, pulling her tablet out already and accessing their family schedule.

“Tomorrow, as soon as you can get away,” Nyssa said decisively. “It will be a long flight.”

“A flight to…?” Felicity probed. Nyssa shook her head.

“It is better if you do not know. “I promised him secrecy and security in exchange for him continuing to protect the archives. I cannot break that promise.”

“Alright,” Oliver said. “I guess we’re flying Air Assassin.”


	6. Putting on the suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Oliver get closer to the mystery of the Master and The Titans, and what do they have to do with the League of Assassins?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the scant few who are following this story - thank you. I realize many people don't like where this story goes, but it is the one my muse keeps going back to, so I am going to write it. If you like it, please post if on Tumblr or Twitter. I'm on Twitter as @WriteReal1, but I don't really do Tumblr. I'd like to establish a following. Storytelling is in my blood. Thank you.

If Nyssa thought keeping their destination secret was going to prevent Felicity from figuring it out, she was wrong. Fifteen minutes after they were in the air, Felicity knew they were en route to the Greek islands. She wasn’t sure which one of the 1500 to choose from, but she was close enough. 

She snuggled up to Oliver who was staring moodily out the window. He reached out and entwined their fingers, his eyes never leaving the sky. She put her head on his shoulder.

“Greek islands,” she said softly, not wanting to upset Nyssa with her knowledge.

A smile curved Oliver’s lips and he looked down at her.

“Do I even want to know?”

She laughed. “Direction we’re headed, amount of fuel on board, plus estimated arrival time makes it pretty easy.”

He laughed. “For you, yes. For the rest of the world, no.”

She grinned. “I also hacked into the airport to see the flight plan that was filed. I knew it wouldn’t be where we were really going, but it also helped narrow things down.”

He leaned over and kissed her chastely on the mouth. “You are so brilliant.”

Felicity deepened the kiss, nipping at his lower lip before pulling back and smiling up into his beautiful blue eyes. They kissed again, slowly, but thoroughly, before pulling apart and settling back into their seats.

“Why Greece?” Felicity mused. “Did the League have any business there?”

“Yes,” Oliver said. “The League is ancient, as is Greece. We had holding in the islands, mostly remote storage and training facilities where our fighters could stay when preparing for a mission.”

“Have you ever been there?”

Oliver nodded. “With the Bratva once. The remoteness of the islands, especially the less populated ones, make good safe houses. They also make for good places to hide illegal activities.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Sounds charming.”

“Greece is actually a beautiful country and the people are very friendly. I’ve always wanted to go back and really see the islands, visit the Parthenon, do all the touristy things.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You never mentioned it when we were on our world tour.”

“It was on the list, just not near the top. We’ll get there someday.”

Warmth spread through Felicity’s chest. She wondered if Oliver realized just how much he had changed in the last couple of years. He no longer shied away from talk of the future, expecting that he wouldn’t have one. Now he looked forward to and planned for a future for their family. 

“Sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “I’ll be sure to research and see places we want to go.”

 

It was dark when they landed on a private airstrip and transferred to a sleek boat that carried them out into the calm obsidian ocean. The clouds obscured the moon, and Felicity felt a stab of unease as they shot across the waves. She had a very healthy respect for the power of the ocean and crossing it in the dark was daunting. She hoped the captain knew what he was doing. 

Two hours later they pulled up to a short dock and the captain helped unload their things before nodding once to Nyssa and re-boarding his boat. Nyssa led the way in silence to a small car that sat on the simple dirt road that ran along the shore. A sprinkling of small dark buildings dotted the shoreline. There was a single light at the end of the dock and another a few yards along the road. It was desolate, and Felicity shivered despite her warm jacket.

They piled into the small car, their bags in the back, and Nyssa took the wheel. They were still silent as they bumped down the uneven road as it rose up into the dark hills. Finally, they turned into an almost hidden steep driveway that featured several more turns until they arrived in front of an unassuming whitewashed house. Nyssa put the car in park and killed the engine. She turned to them.

“They are expecting us, but I must go in first and speak with them.” She hesitated. “The Record Keeper is not happy to see me. I will try to get him to see the importance of our mission, but in case he does not,” she gestured towards the back of the car. “I have brought League gear. Oliver, you must put it on. If he will not be swayed by me, you must come in and appear as Ra’s.”

Oliver swallowed hard, Felicity squeezed his hand, urging him to look at her. Their blue eyes locked, and she gave him a small, encouraging smile. It’s just an act, she willed him to understand. You do not need to go back into that dark place. We are here, in the light. We are going to stay here. 

Oliver nodded and smiled back at her. He looked at Nyssa and gave her a sharp nod. He understood. He would play the part.. Nyssa left the car, striding towards the front door. Oliver and Felicity climbed out, and she helped him into the costume inside Nyssa’s black duffel. When he was finally dressed, Ra’s deadly and ornamental sword at his hip, Felicity felt a surreal combo of fear and pride surge through her. Even with his hair longer and the blank gaze missing from his eyes, he looked every inch the warrior. He was magnificent.

Felicity reached up to him and gave him a soft, lingering kiss as her fingers stroked the back of his head, around his ears, and down across his jaw and finally up to his lips until she leaned back. 

“I know there are some seriously bad memories connected to this outfit, but you are so. Fucking. Sexy.”

Oliver’s eyes went wide and he huffed out a laugh.

“Felicity!” he said, incredulous. “I caused so much pain wearing this—“

“I don’t care,” she murmured and kissed him again, fiercely this time. “You look so strong, so fierce in this, it makes me melt.” She molded herself against him. “I want you to take me when you’re wearing this. We are not giving this back to Nyssa.”

Oliver drew back, a crooked smile burgeoning across his face. “Are you serious?”

“Ollivvver,” she purred. “We have established that I love a man in ‘uniform.’”

“In my Arrow suit,” he interrupted and she laughed and kissed him quickly.

“In any suit, my husband. You look so dark and so dangerous,” her hands slid down to cup him through the League pants. “So…manly.”

“But,” he sputtered, completely caught off guard by Felicity’s amorous attitude.

She squeezed him and he gasped. “But nothing. The minute we get time to ourselves, I am so going to jump you, and I expect Oliver playing Warith ah Ghul to respond.”

Oliver’s mouth hung open and then he grinned a real Oliver grin. A grin that said he was full of joy and wonder.

“Anything you want,” he breathed. “Your wish is my command.”


	7. Playing the part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity find out the history of the Master and Valkyrie. It is nothing that they could have guessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have shied away from this fic because you feel Oliver is being unfaithful, nothing could be less true. There is something deeper and darker at work. Trust Olicity.

It was only a few minutes later when Nyssa emerged from the house where a light was now shining through a window. She strode back to the car, her carefully schooled features giving nothing away.

“He will speak with you about the archives and your reasons for wanting to access them.” She paused. “He wanted only you to view the documents, but I explained that Felicity is your wife, and as such, should also be able to see them. I don’t know if he will agree to that.”

“What about you?” Felicity asked, glancing over at Oliver. “You’re more likely to know what to look for and where to look.”

Nyssa shook her head. “I disbanded the League, so in his eyes I am a traitor. I gave away my position as Ra’s. You have only to ask him what you need to know, and he will show you the records.”

Felicity snorted. “Right. So, we say, ‘can you tell us who this psychotic killer is who keeps sending assassins after us? Cause we’re pretty sure he used to be in the League.’”

“Yes,” Nyssa said calmly. “That will suffice.”

“Ookay…” Felicity drawled and looked at Oliver. “Okay, mister Ra’s. Let’s get this over with.”

Oliver heaved a sigh, closed his eyes for a moment to center himself, and then looked over at his wife. “I really thought all this shit was in my past.”

Felicity reached out and stroked his arm. “You’re just playing a part. The sooner we go in there the sooner we can leave.”

Oliver nodded and gestured for Felicity to precede him. Nyssa quickly stepped in Felicity’s path.

“No. As Ra’s you should enter the house first. The Record Keeper and his apprentice are ready to receive you. Felicity and I will follow. He will take the two of you to the records vault, and I will wait with the apprentice.”  
Oliver rolled his eyes but stepped around both of the women and headed for the front door. Unconsciously he had straightened his posture and puffed up his chest. If he had to play the part he would do it to the best of his ability.

He opened the door without knocking and was greeted by two men; one middle-aged and the other in his late 20’s. Both men were dressed in the traditional black League clothing. They swiftly knelt in front of Oliver, their heads bowed, waiting for his permission to rise.

“Record Keeper,” Oliver said in his best Arrow voice. “I need to view the archives. You will take me there now.”

The man nodded and both men rose to their feet.

“It is good to see you again Ra’s ah Ghul. It has been too long.”

Oliver eyed him silently. He wasn’t about to give the man any room to talk of reuniting the League. If the guy was intelligent, he would already know that Oliver wanted nothing to do with the defunct organization.  
“This way, my lord,” the Record Keeper said, and turned towards the back of the house. Oliver followed, aware that Felicity was just behind him.

They went through the dark house that was nevertheless larger and far more airy than expected. Felicity guessed that in the daylight there would be amazing views of the ocean through the large living room windows.  
The Record Keeper led them through the kitchen into a small pantry. He activated a hidden switch and one of the wall of shelves swung open to reveal a set of steep stairs doing down into inky darkness. After a moment light flooded the stairs and the Record Keeper carefully began to descend.

“There’s a hidden room,” Felicity muttered. “In the basement. Of course there is. I wonder if it’s part of a dungeon or if that’s somewhere else.”

Oliver turned and winked, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Only Felicity could crack wise at a situation like this.

At the bottom of the stairs a large stone walled room spread out before them. Rows of bookshelves and several book tables covered the space. Two chairs and a larger table holding writing supplies dominated the middle of the room. Felicity arched a brow. No sign of a computer anywhere. Where they really that committed to the Stone Age?

The Record Keeper turned to them, his pale eyes focused on Oliver. “What is it you wish to see, my Lord?”

“There is a man who calls himself the Master. He leads a group called the Titans. Are you aware of them?”

The man nodded. “Yes. Of course. The League and the Titans have long been adversaries.”

“This Master is intent on killing me. He seems to think that with me dead, he can become Ra’s ah Gul. He considers it his ‘inheritance.’ I need to know who he is and why he thinks he should be Ra’s.”

“We also need to know who his best assassin is. Her name is Valkyrie,” Felicity added. The man’s eyes flicked to her and then returned to Oliver.

“The records of both of those people were removed from the archives by the late Ra’s. The one you defeated in battle,” the Record Keeper said, smoothly. “It was his wish that their names not appear in the League’s history.”

“I’m not surprised,” Oliver said. “But I know there is a set of records that is kept completely intact. A set that only you and your Apprentice, and the current Ra’s can access. Those records cannot be changed. Those are the ones I need to see.”

The man paused, eyeing Oliver closely as if looking for a sign of weakness. Finding none, he nodded.

“There is an intact archive of the long and grand history of the League. As you said, I am its sole Keeper. Even my apprentice has not read the original records.”

He paused, looking uncomfortable. “Were the previous Ra’s still alive, he would kill me for showing you this information.”

“I am Ra’s now,” Oliver said, menace lacing his words. “And I do not expect to be kept waiting.”

“Very well.” The Keeper turned and went to a book table at the far end of the room. He produced a key from inside his robes and pushed it inside a lock on the side of the table. The mahogany top slid back silently and he placed his right hand on the biometric scanner. Within moments, a section of bookshelves swung open to reveal yet another hidden room.

The Keeper turned towards them and bowed slightly. “I will retrieve the records you seek. Please give me a moment.” He turned back towards the bookcase and disappeared into the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Holy frak,” Felicity muttered. “Paranoid much? You’d think they had the secret of life in there.”

“He probably thinks he does,” Oliver said grimly. “The League always took itself way too seriously. Ra’s was a megalomaniac but he clearly got the idea from the centuries of the megalomaniacs who proceeded him.”

In just a few minutes the hidden door opened and the Keeper reappeared with two large leather-bound books in his hand. He gestured for them to sit at the table and turned on a reading light. Felicity and Oliver settled into their chairs and the Keeper placed the first of the two books in front of them. He flipped it open to a specific page, and pointed at the family tree illustrated across two pages.

“This is the family tree of the previous Ra’s.” The Keeper paused, clearly unhappy about sharing the next bit of information. “Ra’s fathered two sons. One died at birth. The other died in his teens from an infected wound that he got while out on a mission.”

“Why didn’t they use the Pit?” Felicity asked.

“They were too far away, and it was too late for the Pit to help him. It was a very dark day. If Ra’s had not been so strong it would have broken him.”

“I see the two boys here,” Oliver said, his finger tracing the lines of the tree, “but who is this?”

“Amira was Ra’s oldest daughter. She was born several years before her half-sisters Nyssa and Talia.” He paused. “She was born in another time. Much longer ago than you might think.”

“Exactly how old was Ra’s?” Felicity questioned. The Keeper shot her an almost disdainful look and refused to answer, his eyes returning to his leader.

“When did she die?” Oliver queried, sensing that he needed to keep this enquiry on track before the Keeper changed his mind about cooperating. There was clearly information Oliver was supposed to know that Ra’s had not shared with him. Oliver couldn’t afford to look less than legitimate if he wanted answers.

“She did not,” the Keeper said. “She became a powerful fighter. The best in the League. The title of Ra’s is usually passed from father to son. If there are no sons, or the sons are not worthy, the Demon’s Head may choose another man. In rare cases, the title may be passed from father to daughter. Amira was expected to become the next Ra’s.”

“How did the League members feel about that?” Felicity asked, genuinely curious.

“Amira was respected as a fighter and a leader. She had the support of most of the members. Had she chosen to stay with the League she would have been the Ra’s instead of you.”

Oliver and Felicity looked at each other. If that had happened they, and their families, would have been spared so much pain and loss.

Oliver looked down at the book. “You said ‘had she stayed with the League.’ Where did she go?”

The Keeper pursed his lips. He flipped to the next page and Felicity was surprised to see another branch of Ra’s tree. 

“Normally nothing is noted of a member’s time before they join the League as it is irrelevant. However, Ra’s had a younger half-brother, who was inducted into the League shortly after Ra’s was. When Ra’s ascended to become the Demon’s Head his brother became his closest advisor.”

The Keeper paused and Felicity could see he was trying to couch the words in just the right way. Finally, he seemed to have made a decision.

“Alar was many years younger than his brother. Young enough to almost be considered a son. When both of the sons died, Alar felt that he should inherit the throne. Ra’s did not agree. Alar began sowing seeds of discontent among the League, which Ra’s quashed at every turn. What he did not know, however, was that Alar’s plan to steal the throne was far more evil. Alar turned Amira against her father. Together they conspired to kill Ra’s and share the throne.”

Felicity’s mouth dropped open. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that Amira is Valkyrie and Alar is…the Master?”

The Keeper nodded. “Yes. When Ra’s discovered their plot he ordered Alar’s death. Men who were loyal to him helped him escape. He disappeared for many years before forming the Titans.”

“What about Amira?” Oliver demanded.

“Ra’s attempted to counteract the damage Alar had done, but was not successful. She had been poisoned against her father and could not be trusted. Ra’s did not want to kill her, so he banished her from the League and forbade anyone to utter either of their names again.”

“Then he had you remove them from the archives.”

The Keeper nodded. “Yes.”

Felicity and Oliver looked at each other. They had the answers they had come for, but they didn’t make things better. The Master considered Oliver the current Ra’s and needed to kill him to ascend to the throne. Valkyrie did his bidding without questions. They were still at square one.

Oliver turned back to the Keeper.

“You have served me well. You will return the information the previous Ra’s had you remove from the record.” He had no idea if anyone else would ever see it, and he hoped to heaven that it would never needed to be known, but if someone did need that info, he wanted it to be accessible to them.

The Keeper flinched but nodded his head and gathered up the books to return them to the hidden room.

Felicity reached out and threaded her fingers with her husband’s.

“We have a starting point. Now we need to decide what to do.”

Oliver chuckled weakly. “Why do I feel like there is nothing we can do short of killing Ra’s and Valkyrie?”

Felicity shook her head vehemently. “I disagree. If Alar and Amira want the League, let them have it. Face him, and renounced your position as Ra’s.”

Oliver shook his head. “It won’t work, just like me giving the throne to Malcom didn’t work. This guy is old school. For him to command the League of Assassins, he has to best me in combat and kill me. Nothing else will suffice.”

Felicity squeezed his hand and sighed. “Then…you have to either kill him, or lock him away in prison. Him and Valkyrie. Then you have to disband the Titans.”

“Yes,” Oliver said heavily. “I do. If we want to have a life, I do.”

Felicity tilted her head and gave him a small smile. “I miss-spoke. WE have to do those tings. And. We. Will,” she said with the strength, if not the volume, of her loud voice. “We will call back Thea and Roy and Nyssa, and whoever else we can muster, and we will do this. For us. For William. For everyone who does not deserve to suffer the Titans or the League.”

Oliver leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. “I am so sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? I have their next interaction written. I honestly have no idea where this is going to go. I just know that I want to go. Come and find me on Twitter @WriteReal1, and if you like this fic, share the link. The Muse likes company. Thanks!


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